Sunflowers, You and Me
by 7thDivisionCapt
Summary: It was a simple attraction at first, which soon grew into an infatuation. And eventually, they fell in love. People said listen to your heart, so Russia and Spain did just that. But the path they chose was quite a bumpy one with many obstacles waiting ahead. Would their love last?
1. 1 - First Encounter

**I should've been working on my other story but instead, I made another one. welp. This is a Russia x Spain fanfiction. RusAme is my OTP, but thinking about pairing up Spain with Russia is kind of adorable hence this fanfiction was born. I try making this story as accurate as possible - historically speaking. But there will be some headcanons mixed in.**

* * *

Alexandrovskaya Village, Grand Residence of Grand Duke Vasili III of Russia.  
March 21th, 1519

Spain had been sitting down for five minutes, patiently waiting for this country's representation to come and greet him. His eyes scanned around the large room, admiring how beautiful and well-kept it looked like. It was a given as Royals, after all. They had servants to clean their place up and tend to – basically – everything about their daily needs.

He had been pulled out from his thought when someone walked in. immediately, Spain stood up from his seat, wearing a simple smile on his face. _Always make sure to make a good first impression_ ; the words from his Boss echoed clearly in his mind.

He was greeted with a sight of a young male looking like in his late teens. Pale skinned, platinum blond hair that was borderline white, and in closer inspection, he had an unusual color of eyes – violet. The garments he wore, a Russian-style clothing made by finest woven silk. Even just by the color of his clothes, one could tell that he was someone important; red as blood long flowing robe with golden decorations in its edges, bleached white shirt underneath (Spain could see it because the robe was untied), black trousers and long boots that reached under his knees.

The season today was spring, he wondered why this young man wore a shawl around his neck. And slightly pink in color to boot. But he did not ask.

"I am deeply sorry for my lateness," The teen curtly bowed. "Work has been keeping me busy lately."

"It's fine! It wasn't that long of a waiting anyway," Spain waved it away with a smile; casually, informally.

It baffled the other, but he managed to keep an indifferent look on his face. Usually, when it comes to meet with another nation, they tend to be stiff and all formal-like, so it was a surprise for the violet-eyed boy.

"So, you are..." Spain trailed off, unsure what to call him.

"Grand Duchy of Muscovy, but many call me with the name Russia." Russia introduced himself, corners of his lips tugged upwards to a thin smile as he extended his hand to the other, offering Spain a handshake. "And you must be Spanish Empire, yes?"

" _Si!_ I'm known nowadays as The Land Which Sun Never Sets, but you can call me Spain." A little bit of boasting wouldn't hurt, would it? Spain was proud of his current Boss. He was a strong and cunning man. Spain gained that nickname because of his Boss' wise decision in wars, which led to victories, which led to more power and land, which really made the Spanish Empire grateful to have such leader as a sovereign.

They shook hands, before Russia politely inviting him to sit back down again. Russia settled on the opposite chair and continued, "What brings you here, Spain?"

"I'm here as a messenger from King Charles," He took out a folded parchment sealed with a royal seal and passed it on the table to the platinum-haired nation. Russia took it and brought it closely to his vision (but not too close, it would've looked ridiculous) as if staring at it could make him see through and read the words inside. Though it seemed Spain knew what he was thinking, so he explained. "It is a notification to Grand Duke Vasili about his ascension to the throne of the Holy Roman Empire."

Russia placed the letter into his pocket, deciding to give it to his Boss after this. "So quick, wasn't it just a few years ago he entered coronation and became King of Spain? He must be a good leader to have such position quickly given to him." News from mouth to mouth traveled fast, believe it or not. It somehow even reached the land of Muscovy.

"Oh don't even get me started. Ever since he became our leader, prosperity has been pouring over my land." The brunet gave Russia a wide smile, looking so proud talking about his leader.

"That must be good." Russia smiled back.

But there was a hint of tiredness on his features.

Now, Spain may be called a dense man, but he knows when someone is stressed. He had been through that phase too, after all. Tired and stressed out because of wars. Spain noticed the bags under Russia's eyes. Dry lips, indicating he did not drink water much, probably too busy working that he did not even bother to take a rest and fill his stomach. Slightly disheveled hair; though it honestly looked adorable.

Oh god. What was he thinking?

The Brown Haired Nation cleared his throat, trying not to think about how Russia looked so... so- even though he was- but still, look at that guy-

Damn, he needed to stop thinking.

"Rough day, huh?" Spain said. Russia nodded in response, running a hand through platinum locks as a tired sigh escaped his parted lips.

"My people have been in many wars with the Lithuanian. This year is the fourth. Lithuania is quite tough, subjugating him will take some time, I suppose." Russia leaned back in his chair, shrugging. "I just want to end the war quickly." _And take back my sisters from Lithuania_ ; Russia thought silently.

"That's what a lot of nations – including myself – thinking when we're at war. War is exhausting and it costs a lot of wealth. On top of that, our people's lives are put at stake. I hate to see my men killed."

"That makes two of us. Seeing my people dying is the most devastating thing in my life." Russia responded. This conversation reminded him of the battles he had had. Like the previous _Muscovite-Lithuanian wars_ , or even the older ones such as _Battle on the Ice_ with Teutonic Knights. It made him even more tired and stressed. Not wanting to talk about wars anymore, he changed the topic immediately. "Anyway, would you like tea?"

"Ah... no, thank you." From here Spain could see through the window that the sky was starting to darken. If he were to stay here any longer, it would be dark before he could even reach the shore to go back to his ship. "I should go back now. It is a pleasure to meet you, Russia." The green eyed nation said, beginning to stand up to leave.

"You know, you should just stay here for a night." Russia stood up as well, then he cleared his throat. "The road is not safe when it's dark. Not that I doubt your strength, but I want my guests to leave this place unscathed. I have heard there were bandits roaming around the roads outside the village. I haven't been able to take care of it because of the war, so I suggest you spend the night here." Vasili the Third would not mind anyway. And if he did, Russia would reason with him.

Because letting Spain leave just like that did not sit right with Russia. And besides, Russia enjoyed Spain's company. He seemed nice. From the first time he had laid his eyes on the green-eyed nation, he became interested. A little secret he would never tell anyone.

Spain looked like he was contemplating about the offer. After almost a minute of waiting, he finally had an answer. Spain nodded, showing the slightly taller nation a smile. "I'd be happy to accept the offer, thank you."

Russia smiled back contentedly, then made his way to the door. "I will notify the servant to show you to your room. Please excuse me."

* * *

There was a sound of someone rapping the door. Spain answered without leaving the comfortable bed in a sleepy voice. "Yes...?"

"Sir, the dinner is ready. Mr. Muscovy is waiting for you in the dining room."

"Alright, be there in a sec." He groggily woke up and went to the bathroom to wash his face, fixing his hair and clothes before stepping out from the bedroom. Outside the door the same servant from before had been patiently waiting for him. Seeing Spain was ready, the servant led the way to the dining room. "Please follow me."

Without being told twice he followed the servant closely behind. It took them a few minutes to actually arrive at the dining room since the hallway was stretching wide and long.

"Glad you can join us for dinner, Spain." Russia said in a barely concealed happy tone when he saw Spain appeared after the servant.

"Oh, so this is Spanish Empire, huh?" A new voice spoke up. Spain looked at the head of the table and saw a man in his late thirties – possibly already in his forties, wearing expensive looking clothes only Royals wore. He was smiling politely. On his side sat Russia.

The man's face was similar to the one painting he saw in the hallway before. Spain guessed this was Grand Duke Vasili III. "Yes. It's an honor to finally meet you, sir." He slightly bent his body forward.

The Grand Duke nodded and said; "The honor is mine. Please, have a seat."

Spain sat on the opposite chair of the Duke, and it honestly felt a little awkward for him. The table was long, and by long it meant very, approximately there was a seven meters distance between heads of the table. And Spain sat alone at this end while the Duke had Russia beside him.

The thing about eating with Royals always made him feel awkward with the stiff formalities and quietness. He began to miss eating in the ship with his crew, where they could be loud as they want, being friendly with each other without the need to worry about regulations and such. While here, he had to watch his manners. Spain kept his mouth shut the entire time, only speak when the Duke asked him questions. Russia... well, he was content with being silent until the end of the dinner hour. Silently watching the exchange between Spain and his leader.

When they had done with their foods, a servant came in and approached the Duke, whispering something in his ear. Probably a news. The Duke nodded in a thoughtful manner, before sending a smile to Spain's direction. "I still have matters to deal with, so excuse me for leaving early."

"It is alright, sir."

Before disappearing to the hallway, Vasili stopped at the door and looked at Russia. "Muscovy, treat our guest well."

"I will." Russia nodded, smiling.

The room was silent once again. However, it was only momentarily before Spain broke it with a comment. "Well, that was a nice dinner. The foods were delicious too."

Russia smiled as he looked at the other nation. "I'm glad you liked it."

Both nations were walking down the hallway to head back to their respective rooms. Russia's bedroom was in the same direction with Spain's, which was why they were walking together. Not liking the silence, Spain brought up a topic.

"Russia, do you have a guitar here?"

"No, why?"

Spain's shoulder slumped a little. It didn't go unnoticed by the Slavic nation. "I've been wanting to play guitar. And I don't feel tired anymore so I want something to do to spend time until I feel sleepy."

Russia was tired after signing a lot of papers and trying to come up with good strategies to win the war against Lithuania. He'd rather sleep, but he also wanted to spend as much time as he could with Spain. He wondered why. Maybe because it had been a long time since he had someone – a nation – who could actually talk to him at ease without any negative feelings. Persia could be considered as a good friend, but they were too busy to contact one other anymore. Therefore, he offered Spain an option to do something to pass the time. "It's not really a good time for me to ask since it is night already... but if you want to, I could show you around the Palace?"

"Really? That'd be great!" The Spanish Empire beamed, and it made Russia's heart flutter. The picturesque sight of Spain smiling captured by his eyes, forever be engrained in his brain. Thank God the light from the candles on the walls weren't bright enough, he didn't need to hide his slightly blushing face.

"Then, let's start from..."

* * *

After went around, showing every location available Russia decided to show the best spot they had in this Palace for the last.  
"It is basically a place where I mostly spend my time when I want to be alone." Russia said.

"Can't wait."

He tapped Spain's shoulder. "Actually, we've arrived already. Look in front of you." Russia pointed to the large garden in front of them. The lush green grass beneath their feet. Beautiful flowers in full bloom with different colors strategically placed in a big circle, each layer with different type of flower. In the middle of the circle were a fountain and large statue of a man holding a scroll. The bright moonlight shone down the place was even made it more beautiful. Mesmerized by the sight, Spain walked closer to the flower garden in awe.

"Wow, Russia. This is beautiful." Spain said, trying not to step on the flowers as he made his way to the middle. Thankfully there was some gap between flowers that had different type and color, so he put his feet in that gap. Russia followed from behind, chuckling lightly. "I know."

"How do you guys keeps this garden? I mean, I've heard the winter here is harsh. And these flowers are unlikely to last in cold temperature."

"I do not really know, I'm only here when spring comes. Other than that, I'm either at other rulers' place or back at my own home in Moscow." Russia responded, shrugging. They sat on the edge of the fountain when they had arrived in the middle, in close proximity and shoulders almost touching. Russia had mixed feelings about this. Between nervous and excited, uncomfortable but also comforting in a way, and it confused him. He shouldn't be feeling this; especially toward someone he barely knows. He should move away, put some distance between them. But he didn't. As much as he hated to admit, Russia didn't want to lose the warmth of the warm nation beside him.

Spain however, seemed unaware of Russia's trouble and also unaware of how close they were. He was struck with amazement of how beautiful the flowers were.

"This is really beautiful... thanks for taking me here, Russia." The brunet smiled from ear to ear as he looked at the young man beside him. Russia suddenly felt lost all of his confidence, intimidated by the beauty beside him. Really, what was wrong with him? He could not look at the other in his eye, preferring to stare down at his boots. Wow, look at the speck of dust at the tip of his boot. Fascinating.

"Y..You're welcome."

"Mhmm. Hey, can you tell me the name of this flower?" Spain pointed at the yellow colored of flowers in the first layer. Russia scrutinized the said flowers, trying to remember the name of it.

"It is called..."

They spent hours talking outside. Spain always had something to talk about, it seemed. From flowers to tradition, then to languages et cetera. Although, it was more like Russia listening to Spain's endless babbling, only added comments right there and there when needed.

"And then I fell down to the mud because I was so panic!" Spain laughed out loud, followed by a chuckle from Russia.

"You should've never done that. Dogs are scary when angry." The taller nation said, shaking his head in amusement.

"Lesson learned; I don't think I'd ever want to mess with stray dogs anymore."

"It was silly of you to even do that."

"I know. I wasn't in the right mind at that time."

"Why wasn't anyone stopping you?"

"Because they thought it was..." Spain paused momentarily to let out a yawn. Apparently he was getting sleepy. "...amusing to see me being chased down by dogs."

"Such friends they were." Russia commented, and when he saw Spain was yawning he asked; "Want to go back now?"

"No, just a little more. I don't feel sleepy yet."

Russia doubted that. "If you say so..."

Spain tried to wipe away the sleepiness from his eyes. He blinked rapidly, eyes unfocused. "So, Russia. Tell me the funniest moment that's ever happened in your life."

"Well... it happened a long time ago. Once, big sister Ukraine was searching for firewood in the forest–" The Grand Duchy of Muscovy ceased his talking and stiffened when he felt a weight on his side. He looked down and found Spain, who was resting his head on his shoulder.

"Spain...?"

"Hmm?" Spain replied. "Keep going. What happened after that?"  
Russia could practically hear the drowsiness in his tone. But since Spain wanted to hear the continuation of his story, he carried on.

"Well, I didn't want to be left alone in the shack. And I couldn't leave Belarus by herself, so I took her with me to find our big sister. And..."

Russia paused again when he heard the soft snore coming from beside him. An amethyst pair of eyes looked down, trying to discern anything from Spain's facial expression. Too bad all he saw was brunet hair. He couldn't see Spain's face when the other was facing downward. Another light snore told him that Spain had already fallen asleep. He smiled serenely, slowly (and cautiously) brought a hand up to the brunet man's back, rubbing soothe circles on it. Spain sighed contentedly as he unconsciously shifted closer to Russia. The small action brought warmth to the Slavic nation's heart. He whispered;

"Goodnight, Spain."


	2. 2

Special thanks to LunaBloom for betaing this chapter!

* * *

Alexandrovskaya Village, Grand Residence of Grand Duke Vasili III of Russia.  
March 22th, 1519

Unimpeded, morning sunlight permeated the room through the open curtain and shone directly toward his face. Spain squinted his eyes and rolled over onto his stomach, face buried down in the pillow, trying to avoid the blinding light. He had no desire to leave the bed anytime soon; it was too comfortable here. He was still feeling tired after a long trip through seas to visit this land, then staying up late at night talking to Russia. Then...

Then what?

Spain sprang up awake, blinking away the sleep from bleary eyes. He looked around, apparently he was back in his room. Not the room back at home, but the one Russia had prepared for him. He could not quite recollect how he ended up here, even after racking his brain to remember last night's event.

The last thing he remembered, he was talking with Russia in the flower field. He did not remember ever walking back to his room.

Did it mean Russia carried him here?

If he did... how did he carry him?  
Slinging Spain over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes? Dragging him by his collar? Piggyback ride? Or maybe...

Bridal style?

 _Russia brought Spain closer to his chest, while Spain wrapped an arm around the other's neck, breathing in his nice, sweet musky smell with a hint of earthy rawness, feeling his warmth, hearing his heartbeat..._

" _¡Oh Dios mío!_ What am I thinking?!" Spain shouted suddenly, face slightly red. He slammed his head on the pillow and went motionless. He needed some time to clear his head of the inappropriate fantasy of him and Russia that came to mind.

Maybe a bit of fresh air would help.

Some time later, after he had calmed down a little, Spain left his bed and walked towards the double door that led to the balcony. With one push, he opened the door and went sitting on the marble balustrade. He felt the soft wind caressing his skin as he looked down on the servants below doing their duties, mindlessly swinging his legs all the while. A gardener tending the flowers, some maids hurriedly running off to who-knew-where carrying broomsticks, a butler passed by with a tray on his hand that contained two cups and a kettle, plus a few slices of black bread, probably for the Duke and his wife for breakfast.

He heard a knocking on the bedroom's door. Spain cocked his head to the side, looking at the direction where he heard the noise. "Who is it?"

"It is Russia. May I come in?" the voice outside responded. Hearing it was Russia, Spain's heart raced a little, remembering his fantasies. He swallowed, trying to regain his composure and to forget about the crazy images he had formed in mind.

"Y-yes! The door's unlocked."

The said door was opened, and a figure stepped inside. Russia looked around, searching for Spain. Finding the other nation outside on the balcony, he walked toward the aforementioned place.

The two nations exchanged smiles and greetings when they saw each other. Russia's amethyst eyes scrutinized Spain's disheveled appearance from top to bottom. Rumpled clothes, tousled hair, and droopy eyes showed that the older nation had just woken up from his slumber.

"I bet you just woke up, no?" An amused smile played on his lips when he saw Spain quickly sprucing up his appearance and wiping his face.

"Pssh. I know it's late to wake up around this time. But I was so tired last night."

"I was aware. You did not even twitch when I moved you."

 _Ack. He knew it._ Laughing sheepishly, Spain ran a hand through his brown hair. "I must be heavy, huh?"

"Not really," Russia said. "I wouldn't say heavy, but you weren't light. It was tolerable. Besides, it was funny to see you smiling while speaking about tomatoes in your sleep."

"What. Did I really do that...?"

"Yes, you did."

"Oh my," Spain facepalmed, shaking his head. "How embarrassing."

"Don't be. You looked adorable actually. Like a little kid." Russia joked, trying to cover his chortle behind his scarf but failed miserably. Spain playfully smacked the other nation's shoulder the time he saw it. "Shut it, ya' punk. I'm older than you."

"But it was amusing. You should've seen your face." Finally, Russia openly chuckled, before gradually stopping and turning heel to walk out the door. "Come, I've had the servants preparing breakfast for you," he invited before he left.

"Ah, wait. Let me just have a quick wash up to get ready." Spain said, getting off from the balustrade and heading towards the bathroom.

"I will wait for you outside."

"Okay. It won't be long."

* * *

Sorry to keep you waiting."

The Mediterranean nation emerged out from the room, wearing new clothes and looked nice and clean. He wore a green tunic that matched his eyes, with split neckline that was trimmed with contrasting, darker color that also matched the filigree embroidery on the front. The tunic had a slight A-line waist, for a comfortable fit. Long dark brown trousers and lighter brown leather shoes. Simple style of clothing nonetheless looked good on him; Russia inwardly admitted.

"It is all right. Let's just go now."

They arrived in the dining room after a few minutes. Again, they were sitting so far away from one another. Spain let out a soundless sigh. Another awkward break bread, it was.

Or was it?

He witnessed Russia call on a maid that was standing behind him just a few feet away. A hand gestured in Spain's direction while he continued speaking in his native tongue. The maid glanced at the way her nation was pointing and curtly nodded. Spain wondered what they were talking about.

"You know, you're sitting too far away. How about you move closer here so we can talk?" Russia asked, smiling.

The maid approached Spain's side of the table and began putting his plates and cup and other cutleries on the tray in her hand.

 _So that's what they were talking about._ Spain gave Russia a nod, standing up from his seat and moved to an empty chair on Russia's side. Subsequently, the maid placed all of his foods in front of him. He thanked her and began to dig in. Russia did the same.

"So," the Slavic nation began as he dipped the spoon in the red soup. "The weather's nice today, don't you think?"

"Mhmm." Spain swallowed his food. "A perfect time for sailing."

Russia halted his movement and settled to look at the older nation. "...You're planning to go back now?"

"Well, yeah. I've delivered the letter safely, so I have no reason to stay much longer." The brunet shrugged. In any case, he had promised his ship's crew that he would go back as soon as possible. Even if he wanted to spend just a little bit more time with Russia here, he had things to take care of back in his place.

"Sir Vasili's birthday is on the twenty-fifth."

That caught Spain off guard. He looked up from his soup towards Russia. Green eyes locked on the purple ones in wonderment. "Huh?"

"This month on the twenty-fifth, Sir Vasili is turning forty years old. A ball will be held here in this Palace. Some nations will be invited. And since you are here already..."

"Oh, I get it." Spain finally put the pieces together. Three days from now there would be a ball. Russia wanted to invite him to attend the party. It meant he would be staying here three days more. But what about his crewmen? They probably had been waiting for his return.

And even if he were to stay here, he didn't have appropriate clothes for the ball. He only brought two pairs of clothes here because he had thought it wouldn't take this long visiting Alexandrovskaya village.

"I'd love to stay, but I only have this to wear and the clothes I wore yesterday..." Spain laughed sheepishly.

"If it is clothes that you're worrying about, I can have the tailor make some for you."

"But I couldn't possibly accept such ki–"

" _Nyet_. I insist," Russia said, eyes gleaming with conviction and unwavering determination.

A staring contest between the two nations ensued, though it lasted only a few minutes. Spain narrowed his eyes, trying to look intimidating. Sadly, it didn't do much to Russia. He looked unfazed, much to the older nation's frustration.

Spain scoffed with mock annoyance, though his lips formed a crescent smile. "There's no way to talk you out of this, is there?"

" _Da_." The platinum-haired nation gleefully replied, nodding.

"Fine then," Spain finally gave in. He leaned his back against the backrest. "But I need to notify my crew back in the ship."

"I will prepare the parchments and ink for you. After you're measured."

"Right, right." The older nation nodded.


	3. 3

Alexandrovskaya Village, Grand Residence of Grand Duke Vasili III of Russia.  
March 25th, 1519

"Are you really sure it's okay for me to wear this?" said Spain from behind the door. He sounded unsure, and he was _sure_ not going to leave this room until he got positive feedback.

"Yes, of course. Now come out of there or I'll leave you." Russia warned. He had been standing beside the changing room assigned for Spain, one foot tapping against the floor impatiently. The ball had started and as a host country, Russia should've been standing beside his leader to greet the guests by now, not waiting for Spain to be ready.

"D-don't leave me here all by myself! This won't take long, I promise." The slight panic in the Spaniard's voice when Russia mentioned about leaving him made the blond nation smile, amused. The smile only became wider when he heard rattling and clatter of things (plus a _manly_ kind of yelp of surprise) coming from inside of the room. He decided to knock. "Spain, are you okay in there?"

Russia heard shuffling behind the door before the door opened and two dressers came out. They bowed in apologize to their nation for the delay before excusing themselves. Thereafter the violet-eyed nation turned and took a look inside the room. What transpired before his eyes made him stand there in awe.

Spain was dressed in a fine outfit perfect for masquerade ball, patterned white kaftan with bands of gold brocade that hugged his frame perfectly, embroidered with silver cords, black cotton trousers and morocco boots with openwork metal fittings. The upper half of his face was covered with a mask, furnished with raised golden leaves swirls, gold braided edging and a small gold crown with a jewel positioned in the center. His hair was slicked back with one strand curled and left hanging down his temple. Spain's caramel skin made him look exotic. Overall, he appeared dashing and debonair.

And rather uncomfortable from being stared at so intently by Russia. He fidgeted, one hand reached up and rubbed the back of his own neck nervously. "S-so... what do you think?"

"You look-"

 _Great_ would be an understatement. Spain looked like he was crafted by God's hands himself. The mask gave him an aura of mysteriousness and elegance.

 _Mesmerizing_ could be considered a close definition to what Russia saw right now. Beating the urge of wanting to say that one word in fear of making the Spanish Empire felt more awkward he settled to say; "-like a mysterious, yet charming, Prince from a faraway land."

Spain let out a hearty laugh, all tension leaving him when he heard the exaggerated praise. "What's that supposed to mean." He took one last glance at the vanity mirror before hooking arms with Russia and heading for the ballroom at a quick pace. "Let's go, big guy. We have a party to attend~" The sudden act startled the younger nation, causing him to stumble and almost fall. But, before it could happen, he managed to catch himself. Along the way, Russia noticed a glance from Spain toward his outfit.

Russia wondered what Spain was thinking regarding his appearance. Just like his people, Russia liked brightly colored clothes. The first layer was a high neckline, long sleeved white tunic made out of silk, the edges of the sleeves and the collar was colored forest green and embroidered with pearls. Over the tunic was a coat – _svita_ – brighter green in color with plant motifs tinted in creamy white. It was a beige colored mask seeded with tiny artificial diamonds. The mask was otherwise very simple and covered his face almost completely, with the exception of his nose, down to his chin. One pretty, violet feather was on the corner side of the mask, its tip was bobbing up and down lazily with each step he took. For once, Russia wasn't wearing any scarves.

Their pace slowed when they got closer to the grand mahogany doors. Two soldiers guarded on the right and left of the entrance to the ballroom. Those soldiers bowed respectfully, opening the doors to let their nation with his companion in.

The ballroom was filled with people wearing nice dresses and suits. Various masks with unique shapes covered their faces, making it difficult to identify who they were, leaving people with no choice but to label them as masked personas. Spain probably wouldn't have known anyway; the only people he knew in this place were Russia and Vasili. Classical music played in the air as a few couples danced together in the middle of the room. Some decided to watch or just chat.

Russia spotted Vasili the Third not too far away ahead. The man was not wearing his mask; instead he held it at his side. Likely he was weary of holding it up, for the mask had a rod instead of straps. Russia tapped Spain's back to gain his attention. "I need to talk with sir Vasili first. I will be back soon."

"Sure." Spain gave a nod, watching the platinum-haired nation weaved through the crowd until he was completely out of sight. Now, what should he do with his partner was gone?

He could see a long table on the east side of the ballroom, near the arched windows. A white tablecloth was draped over over the table and many delicious looking cakes, cookies, and bread were laid out on it.

He'd eaten dinner before coming to this party, but when he thought about it... stuffing his face with more food sounded better than standing awkwardly in wait for Russia's return like some lost child.

With that in mind, he proceeded to stride toward the table. Sitting down on an empty chair, he grabbed a small gateau and began to take tiny bites while looking around. The humans were enjoying the party. Smiles on their faces, occasionally he could hear some faint laughter too.

Oh, how he wanted to dance _._ Or at least have someone to talk to.

"You are a nation, aren't you?" He heard an unfamiliar voice so close to his right ear. He could even feel the hot breath near his earlobe. Spain jumped a little, looking over his shoulder to see who it was.

Spain eyed the stranger up and down. He was a man with strawberry blond hair, red eyes and a small fang on the left side of his mouth. He was wearing a small pearl-like earring on his left ear, a small top hat with two ribbons coming off of it, one red and another yellow. He wore a large, dark red trench coat and a mask that had a large, hooked nose. "And you are?"

"Oh! I forgot to introduce myself." The mask was removed and held in his left hand, while another extended toward Spain, offering the brunet a handshake. "I'm Wallachia."

Immediately, Spain placed the gateau on the plate then hauled himself up. "Spanish Empire. Pleased to meet you." A thin smile decorated his lips as he shook hands with Wallachia. He also untied the straps behind his head and took off his mask.

"Hoh~ so this is the one, huh."

"Ye- uh. What?" Spain was puzzled by the statement. "I don't understand."

"Russia talked a lot about you."

"What? Really?" Spain asked, chortling. "I hope he didn't talk bad about me!"

"Quite the contrary, actually. He mostly talked about how you were so nice and friendly and how he liked your company," Wallachia replied, turning to the side and began slicing a pink colored gateau. "I remember yesterday he said he wished he could lock you up in his room so you'd never leave. That was kind of creepy," the red-eyed nation added nonchalantly without a change in his tone or facial expression like he was used to Russia's odd ways of thinking. Wallachia put the gateau that he had sliced to a plate then started eating it with a spoon.

Spain coughed, covering his mouth with the back of his hand to hide the smile that began creeping up his lips. That might be creepy, but was kind of adorable of Russia, in a way. Not that he wanted to get locked up in Russia's room, though!

The two nations talked for quite a while until finally, another one decided to join in.

"I see you've met my friend Wallachia."

Spain could feel the hair on his neck rising. Somebody was standing behind him. "What the- Russia! Don't sneak up on me like that!" he said, turning around to look at the younger – yet slightly taller – nation.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," Russia apologized, despite feeling nothing but amused.

Wallachia was carrying the plate as he went past the both of them. Suddenly he lauded aloud, "He's quite interesting, I'd say. You have good taste, Russia." He patted Russia's shoulder with one free hand before going on his way since he thought his presence wasn't needed there anymore. "I need to talk to my boss now, so see you around."

"Do you really have to say that out loud...?" Russia muttered under breath, cheeks tinted faint pink. The parting words didn't register in his mind since the former sentence was echoing inside his mind much louder.

Spain did not seem to notice, however, with him being such a dense man and all. The brunet chose to shrug it off and fill his plate with all kind of sweets instead, such as cupcakes, chocolates, et cetera.

"Hey, Russia."

"Hmm?" Spain's voice pulled him back to reality. Violet eyes shifted their gaze from the spot where Wallachia had had been to the brown-haired nation.

"Let's go outside."

Behind that mask, Russia's face contorted into a questioning stare. "May I ask why? Were you not enjoying the party?"

"I did not mean it like that, really! It's just..." Spain brought a plate filled with colorful gateaux in-between the two of them and sheepishly continued. "I need someplace peaceful to eat this?"

"Well... come with me." Russia turned heel and strode toward the closed oaken double doors with beautiful carvings of flowers on its surface. Spain followed suit, holding the plate high so as not to let it bump with some stranger and drop it.

Russia opened the door and it showed the balcony. Deserted and tranquil, it just what Spain needed. He stepped outside and perched on the railing with his feet dangling outward. Looking over the sky he uttered, "It's a full moon tonight."

The sound of music from the ballroom had gone down in volume the same time Russia closed the door. "Is that so?" the blond nation said as he walked closer, casting his gaze skyward while leaning against the railing.

"Uh-huh." Spain gave a nod. With one hand he messed up his brown hair to let it back like how it used to before the party, earning a bemused stare from Russia.

"I like it messy." He reasoned, giving the northern country a grin.

"I can see that."

Since Spain had taken off his mask, Russia wanted to too. He tried to tug off the strap behind his head but somehow the bound ended firmer than before. He tried to pull another strap yet the result was the same. He snorted.

Apparently the brunet had noticed Russia's struggle so he gestured the younger nation to come closer after putting down the plate to his lap. "Here, let me help."

Russia took a step closer to Spain, showing the back of his head while absentmindedly looking at the doors, letting Spain undo the knot. He secretly enjoyed the feeling of Spain's hands touching his hair.

"Some of your hair's tangled with the knot, this could take a moment..." Spain commented, eyes narrowed to see better in this place with so little light.

Shortly after that the mask was successfully untied, Spain made a pleased sound and went back enjoying his dessert, completely missing the drooping spirits emanated from Russia – who was already missing those hands in his hair.

"Would you like some?" He offered the plate full of pastries to Russia. The northern nation only shook head.

"No, thank you." Russia answered and put the mask in the inside pocket of his coat.

"Oh well, your loss. This stuff is delicious!"

Russia turned around. With forearms rested on the railing, he leered at the nation beside him. "I'm wondering why you chose to eat out here rather than dancing inside."

Spain swallowed the food in his mouth. "As much as I'd like to dance, I didn't see anyone without a partner." _What a lame excuse_ , he thought. There were many wallflowers in the ballroom, only he did not have the will to ask any of them. He came here with Russia, he wanted to enjoy the party with Russia. The thought of spending it with someone else wasn't appealing to him.

Silence came upon them after he said that. Spain continued to munch on his dessert, while Russia was in deep silence.

"If..." Russia began. Spain paused and put down the piece of pastry to the plate, looking at the blonde and waiting for him to continue. Suddenly, Russia felt his mouth dry. Why was it so difficult to let out one simple question?

"If... if you still... would you..." He sputtered. The words did not make sense. And when he glanced up to see Spain's reaction, he saw the brunet had a simpering smile on his face. Cheeks reddening, Russia immediately looked elsewhere and avoided meeting his eyes with Spain's.

"I mean... us- well-"

He was making a fool of himself. Spain probably was thinking about how stupid he looked. He was probably going to laugh because Russia was acting like a blushing maiden.

"N-neverm–"

" _Yes_ , I'd love to." Spain interrupted. He put the plate aside, turning around then hopping off of the balustrade.

 _What just happened?_

Russia intelligently replied with a, "Huh?"

"I _said_ , yes. I'd love to dance with you."

It took him a moment to process the words in his mind. When he understood, Russia felt his heart swell. He gave Spain his hand with a flourish, hiding the nervousness behind a warm smile and said, "Shall we?"

Spain's shimmering emerald green eyes glittered at him from a tanned face. He smiled back, showing a row of white teeth as he took the outstretched hand. "Let's just dance out here," he said.

The pair could still hear the music even out there. Though it was not as clear as it was inside the ballroom, it was nonetheless enough for the both of them.

Russia did not mind dancing outside, so he nodded. "As you wish."

The food was left forgotten. They moved closer until there was a foot distance between them. Russia put his right hand on Spain's left hip side as the right hand gently grabbed Spain's right hand and held it up shoulder-level. Spain seemed okay with taking the role of the girl, he was even gladly placed his left arm on Russia's shoulder. Purple and green eyes meaningfully looked into each other as they moved slowly in rhythm of the music.

 _Left, right, right, left, back and forward_.

"You seem tense," Spain whispered, as if he was afraid to ruin the dance by speaking loudly, like he usually was.

Russia was indeed tense, but Spain didn't need to know that. Who did, when you were dancing with your source of infatuation? The younger nation took a deep breath, letting it all out slowly before showing his best smile "I'm not. See?" he said in the most confident voice he could muster.

 _Left, right._

A side of Spain's face was illuminated by the escaping yellowish light from the ballroom's windowpane. He giggled in mirth, shaking head. "Whatever you say, Russia-boy."

"Don't call me that. I may be younger than you, but I am no longer a boy," Russia affirmed. Although with that light tone and lower lip jutted out to a pout, Spain could not really take those words seriously. He was about to tease the younger nation once again, until Russia spoke again. "I am a grown up man. I've seen a lot of things children aren't supposed to see."

 _Right, left._

Russia seemed to have how his words were a double edged sword. His partner's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise and another, unidentifiable emotion.

Fully unaware of Spain's state he dragged on. "Things like battles... conflicts..."

That earned a relieved sigh from Spain. Russia stopped, one eyebrow raised as his eyes met Spain's in silence, wordlessly asking why was he sighing.

The brunet shook his head. "It was... just... you know what? It doesn't matter. I thought you were talking about something else."

 _Back and forward._

"Such as...?"

"You know. Se-" Spain immediately cut his sentence with a gasp. He almost said _that_ word out loud! "I mean, romance! Yeah, that. Haha!" he quickly added.

Russia mirrored the surprise expression Spain had had before. It was only for a moment before changing back into his usual smiley face. "Romantic? I can be that too, if that's what you want." Russia had read some romance stories in his free time out of boredom, so he had a bit of knowledge on how act like one. It couldn't be difficult, right?

 _Left, right_.

"W-well, show me what you got, then." Spain couldn't believe the words that had stumbled out from his mouth, even now. It sounded like he wanted Russia to do that.

The distance between the pair were slowly thinning until it reached the point where they could feel each other's breath ghosting their faces. The brunet swallowed nervously.

Russia's hand that was on Spain's left hip side was snaking further around until it reached the other side, the same time Spain hesitantly looped his left arm, followed by the right, around Russia's neck.

Both found themselves could not take their eyes off of each other. Spain felt like he was lost in those purple pools.

Russia felt the same when he looked at that emerald green eyes in front of him.

 _Right, left_.

Russia's gaze went down to Spain's soft, plump lips. He was so tempted to taste it. Being so close like this with the brunet, it made it difficult for him to have self-control. Without thinking, he leaned in.

 _Back and forward_.

Spain began to close his eyes, bracing himself for what was about to come.


End file.
